


Ever After

by bexara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexara/pseuds/bexara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroko reflects on his wedding to Kise and Aomine as he waits for Kise to pick him up at the school where he works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon who asked for a future fic with Aomine, Kuroko, and Kise, and to make sure Kuroko is a kindergarten teacher.

They were married, the three of them, on a sandy beach in Hawaii, next to a sparkling blue ocean that was darker than Kuroko’s eyes but lighter than Aomine’s.

Their closest friends attended.

Kagami and Momoi were the first, coming from America. Kise and Kuroko greeted them enthusiastically. Aomine didn't.

He was not only disgruntled that Kagami made it to the NBA before him, but it just stuck in his craw every time he saw the big, red-headed idiot hang all over his childhood friend, the sister he had never had, the person closest to him in the entire world until he had met Kuroko, and then Kise. The only thing that saved Kagami from the beat down he deserved, at least in Aomine’s opinion, was the sad truth that the moron was the father of Momoi’s unborn child. Actually, he _still_ had wanted to kick Kagami’s teeth in, but Kuroko and Kise stopped him.

Midorima and Takao arrived later, tired and jet lagged from Chiba where Midorima, now an internationally acclaimed brain surgeon, had just performed a ten hour surgery.

Takao spent his time equally between bragging about the university basketball team he coached and needling Midorima about their own plans for the future. After the last, pretty obvious hint about buying matching rings, Midorima had apparently had enough. He dragged Takao off to their hotel room and they didn’t emerge again until four hours later. Takao had been more subdued, but his skin was flushed, his eyes were shining, and there was a definite purplish mark on his neck that hadn’t been there before.

Akashi hadn’t come.

He’d been in Shangahi, participating in a match with one of the world’s best shogi players. As his “gift,” however, he hired Murasakibara to bake the wedding cake. A top Pâtissier in Tokyo, his confections were both beautiful and delicious. Murasakibara came to Hawaii with the cake, much to everyone’s surprise, and seemed to have gentled over the years. Until, that is, Kagami swiped a pineapple tart off his place. Only Momoi getting between them with a bop on Kagami’s head and a stern admonishment to Murasakibara kept the giant from sending Kagami to the hospital (something Aomine secretly hoped for the entire time the altercation was taking place).

The wedding itself was modest. Although same gender marriages were allowed in the US, there were three of them, not two, and no actual preacher or justice of the peace would touch them. It didn’t bother them, not really. They wrote their own vows and Kagami presided over the ceremony, having obtained one of those online certificates of ordainment as a joke in college.

Momoi cried, and so did Takao, to Midorima’s flustered horror. And so did Aomine.

Kuroko stood up there, his soft voice unusually strong and loud and clear, and stated for God and all their friends to hear, “Kise-kun, you have my heart. Aomine-kun, you have my soul. And just like I can’t live without either of them, I can’t live without either of _you_.”

Those words, the depth of feeling behind them, made the big, bad basketball ace tear right up, and he didn't even bother to wipe them off as they rolled down his dusky face.

Kise _didn’t_ cry, much to everyone’s astonishment. With a shrug and smile so brilliant, so gorgeous, so blinding it rivaled the tropical sun overhead, he informed them, “I cried enough in middle and high school, when I thought I could never have what I wanted. This isn’t the time for tears, but happiness, and I am so very, very happy with Kurokocchi and Aominecchi.”

Momoi, Takao, and Aomine cried again. Even Kagami’s eyes had watered, though he had attributed it to the wind blowing sand in his face. 

Kuroko didn’t cry either, instead taking up Aomine's and Kise’s hands and looking at each with love. A love that was pure and honest and beautiful, so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

Of course, Aomine and Kagami got trashed. Even Takao imbibed too much. Luckily, he only got funnier with each drink, carrying on until he finally passed out against Midorima’s back. With a sigh that didn’t match the affectionate gaze he turned on his partner, Midorima had hauled Takao over his shoulder and wobbled unsteadily back to their room. He’d had a bit to drink, too, though he had carried it better than the rest of them.

Once inebriated, however, Kagami and Aomine got into a fight, tussling around on the beach in their tuxes. No one stopped them this time, it was a fight six years in the making. Afterward, the bruised and banged up duo drank some more and threw their arms around each other’s shoulders as they sang really off-tune sports-themed songs.

Kuroko, Kise, and Momoi didn’t drink.

Momoi for obvious reasons. Kise because he still modeled, in addition to playing professional basketball, and didn’t want the extra calories. Kuroko’s reason was much simpler. It was the happiest moment of his life, surrounded by friends who loved and supported him, joining his hands with the two most wonderful, dazzling, precious men he had ever met. He didn’t want to miss a second of it, forget a single thing by fogging his mind with alcohol. The setting was perfect, having his friends with him was perfect, and the two men he had just married were _perfect_.

When they were back from their honeymoon and it was time to find a place to live, a small argument ensued. Kise wanted a luxury apartment in the Roppongi Hills Residence towers. Aomine wanted a penthouse in the Hirakawacho Mori Tower Residence. Kuroko wanted a house with a white fence, and a yard for Nigou, and trees and enough space for their friends to feel comfortable when they visited. The argument didn’t last long and, naturally, Kuroko won.

They had three bedrooms, but shared one, and it was constantly littered with expensive basketball shoes, designer clothes, and the scribblings of tiny hands.

Kise and Aomine had been able to make a career of playing basketball, but Kuroko hadn’t. He was content, however, with the path he had chosen. Loving children as he did, it was natural he would find fulfillment guiding and teaching them. If he felt an occasional twinge that he couldn’t stand on the same court with his two, glittering stars, well he kept it to himself. He was satisfied, more than satisfied, with the way his life had turned out, and he couldn’t ask for anything more.

***

The flood of memories kept Kuroko company as he picked up wooden blocks, put away stuffed toys, and straightened small chairs. Kise would be there soon to collect him. They had an elaborate dinner to prepare once they were home. Aomine was returning after taking part in the Summer Olympics as one of the members of Japan’s basketball team. It was the longest the three of them had been apart, and both Kuroko and Kise keenly felt the hole the third member of their trio left behind.

Kuroko was tidying up some papers when Kise finally arrived, rushing in like a golden whirlwind.

“Kurokocchi, I missed you!” Kise sang out, picking Kuroko up under his arms and twirling him around, laying a long, passionate kiss on his lips. Kuroko allowed it for a few moments before putting an end to it.

“That’s enough, Kise-kun,” he pulled his head back and said firmly but politely, that ingrained habit still with him after all these years.

Kise put him down with a pout, but didn’t let him go, instead hugging the smaller man to his hard, lean chest. “Why can’t you call me _Ryouta_ , like Aominecchi does?”

He was glad Kise couldn’t see his face right then, because he knew his expression was a mix of consternation and embarrassment. “Maybe tomorrow,” he answered mildly, no hint of his inner turmoil in his voice.

“You always say _that_ ,” Kise sulked, letting Kuroko step out of his arms.

“And you still call me _Kurokocchi_ and Aomine-kun  _Aominecchi_ , so I really don’t think you have room to complain,” Kuroko turned around to close the messenger bag filled with the children’s work he needed to grade that lay on his desk.

“But Aominecchi is Aominecchi,” came the whining rejoinder. “Besides, I keep calling you that because you won’t use _my_ given name. It would be awkward.”

An amused smile on his lips, Kuroko went behind his desk and untied his blue apron, folding it neatly so the chubby bear face was showing. He put it in one of the drawers as he spoke.

“Aomine-kun uses your given name, why is it awkward with me and not him?”

Kise seemed startled, but finally shrugged. “Like I said, Aominecchi is Aominecchi.”

“You realize that doesn’t make sense?” Kuroko lifted one pale, blue eyebrow at him.

“Do _you_ realize you have a green handprint on your left ear?” Kise folded his arms and rather smugly noted, effectively changing the subject, a subject he had brought up in the firstl place.

Kuroko knew what he was doing, but let him get away with it. He really wasn’t comfortable with the topic, either. Reaching up, he scratched a nail over his ear and his finger came away with green flakes.

“Ah, it must have been Tarou-kun, again,” he murmured.

“That little brat that always gives Aominecchi and I dirty looks every time we eat lunch with you?” There was a note of annoyance in his voice.

Kuroko shook his head and smiled again. “Tarou-kun is _five_ , Kise-kun,” he explained patiently, grabbing his bag and throwing it over one shoulder as he padded over to turn off the lights.

Kise followed him like an eager puppy, that hadn’t changed since middle school. “He might be five, but I can tell he definitely has improper feelings toward you.”

Laughing out loud, something he had learned to do with more ease over the years, thanks in great part to Kise’s and Aomine’s efforts, Kuroko tugged Kise out of the classroom and locked the door.

“You sound like Aomine-kun.”

Putting his hand on the small of Kuroko’s back, an action he did naturally without thinking, Kise snorted. “Well, Aominecchi is right _occasionally_.”

Leaning into that hand, enjoying the comfort and love that was communicated with just that simple touch, Kuroko tilted his head up so he could meet Kise’s eyes. “Maybe, but we won’t tell him that, will we?”

Lips twitching, Kise nodded. “Definitely not. His head is too big already.”

They both laughed again and left the school.

Later, after a lot of giggling (on Kise’s part) and moans (on Kuroko’s part) and touching in the shower, a shower big enough for the three of them thank's to Kise’s demand, the two men were in the kitchen chattering and preparing dinner.

Actually, Kuroko was doing the cooking and Kise was doing a good job of getting in his way. Kise was telling him about a shoot he had to cancel because of an upcoming basketball game, and suddenly Aomine was there in the entry way, dark and fit and so breathtaking he made Kise stop in mid-sentence and Kuroko drop the carrot he had been peeling.

With an endearingly boyish grin, one the both of them had once thought he would never wear again, Aomine bounded into the kitchen, throwing his duffel bag at the foot of the bar.

Kuroko wanted to run into his arms, but refrained, frowning instead.

“Aomine-kun, you didn’t say ‘ _I’m home’_ when you came in.” He was stickler for proper etiquette and had ingrained those manners into the other two over the years.

Aomine’s grin faded, but his midnight blue eyes were twinkling as he came forward, throwing one arm around Kuroko and jerking Kise toward them with the other.

“It’s because the house isn’t my home, you _two_ are.” His voice was husky and deep.

Kise turned red, and Kuroko felt his eyes burn. Aomine was usually gruff and loud and arrogant, but sometimes, sometimes he could be sweet and profound.

“I’m home,” he kissed Kise softly. “I’m home,” he turned to Kuroko and repeated the action.

“Welcome home, Aominecchi,” Kise’s own voice was thick with emotion.

Kuroko laid his head on Aomine’s chest, put his hand over Aomine’s where it still gripped Kise’s fingers and smiled. “Yes, welcome home, Aomine-kun. Welcome home.”

Aomine was right, the three of them together were “home.” Not the bricks and mortar and wood that made up the house they lived in. Wherever one of them was, that’s where home was for the other two, and it always would be.

_Fin._


End file.
